Chapter 358: Angry Rain Streams Wash Swords

While the City of Ten Thousand Demons was being drenched by torrential rain, the Vermilion Bird illusion was filled with fiery streaks across the sky.

The illusion was boundlessly vast and empty, filled entirely with swirling smoke and dust. Illuminated by the nine suns on the Peacock's tail feathers, these particles glowed orange.

Within the light, rough surfaces of rock-ash mounds were intermittently exposed, crumbling with every step of the Peacock King.

Behind a rock formation, Zhao Xiang'er leaned against the wall, her eyes slightly closed. Despite her efforts to conceal her presence, her chest continued to heave violently.

She observed the blood seeping through her black garments, gritted her teeth, and channeled spiritual energy to mend her wounds. The incessant sound of the Peacock King treading on rocks behind her allowed her to gauge its proximity, without even needing to expand her spiritual perception.

Zhao Xiang'er gripped her red umbrella-sword, pain coursing through her like an electric current, causing her body, clad in tight battle attire, to tremble incessantly.

She lifted her head slightly, gazing at the colossal Peacock. "What kind of monster is this? How can something like this be killed?" she wondered.

Zhao Xiang'er had been fighting it for a day and a night.

Yet, aside from severing a few of the Peacock King's plumes, she had failed to inflict any substantial damage.

It was almost inconceivable that she was battling a Peacock already reduced to a puppet. If the Peacock were truly alive and at its peak, imagine the despair of its adversaries.

The Peacock's tail feathers fanned out, the nine embedded suns like eyes, sweeping the surroundings as its body rotated.

It was getting closer to her.

As the grey rocks behind her incessantly exploded, Zhao Xiang'er, with no time to wait for her wounds to heal, unfurled her red umbrella, revealing herself, and swiftly darted forward.

The moment she darted out from the grey rocks, the Peacock King locked onto her.

The nine blazing suns on its iridescent tail screen radiated a scorching brilliance, and golden arrows materialized from them, giving chase to Zhao Xiang'er.

The arrows streaked through the reddish-orange dust, parting the smoky waves, instantly closing the distance and bearing down directly on Zhao Xiang'er's back.

Phoenix flames erupted around Zhao Xiang'er. Just as the golden arrows were about to strike, she pressed her toes against the ground, tensed, and instantly sprang straight into the sky.

The golden arrows exploded below, and a few turned back to pursue her.

Zhao Xiang'er held her umbrella aloft in the air, facing the oncoming arrows. The arrows pressed against the umbrella's surface, propelling her higher until she collided with a wall of condensed air.

If that air wall represented the sky, then the girl, with bent knees, holding her umbrella to block the arrows, appeared to be standing inverted upon the heavens.

She stared intently at the Peacock King, trying to guess the location of its weakness.

Once the Peacock King pinpointed Zhao Xiang'er's location, it too flapped its wings and flew toward her. Zhao Xiang'er expanded her spiritual perception, precisely tracking its movements. Just as it lunged, she abruptly half-closed her red umbrella, causing the arrows to slide off its slanted surface and narrowly miss her. The instant the arrows struck the air wall, Zhao Xiang'er propelled herself downward with a powerful kick.

The red umbrella swept away the fiery stream, and the girl drew her sword, striking at the Peacock's pupil.

The two figures drew closer, and flames met emerald.

The fiery light exploded into a stream of flames.

The Peacock King retreated slightly, vigorously shaking its head. Zhao Xiang'er plunged her sword into its body, pinning herself to its head like a nail. Half-crouching, she simultaneously extended her hand, and nine feathers flew from her body, coalescing into a black blade.

Gripping the sword, the girl leaped again, deftly flipping in mid-air before flinging the weapon from her hand, sending it hurtling like a dart toward the Peacock's pupil.

In her dream, the scripture she studied was the "Ancient Lunar Divine Scroll."

This divine scroll contained countless ancient Taoist techniques, not only perfecting all of Zhao Xiang'er's previous methods but also granting her an acute perception beyond normal understanding.

With her eyes alone, she could discern the true trajectory of every attack from the Peacock King, and even perceive the flow direction of each feather filament.

It was as if the Lunar Moon gazed down upon the mortal world, revealing every minute detail.

It was precisely with this ability that she was able to contend with the Peacock King despite such a vast disparity in power.

These Lunar Eyes, acquired through cultivation, were sufficient to allow her to strike a willow leaf with a flying sword from a thousand miles away.

The Nine Feather Blade precisely pierced the bird's pupil.

Before Zhao Xiang'er could rejoice, the Peacock King self-destructed its pupil, repelling the Nine Feather Blade. After the pupil shattered, a new eye quickly coalesced from its flesh, appearing perfectly intact!

Its body seemed immortal, utterly unkillable.

The Peacock let out a long cry.

Zhao Xiang'er's small figure was flung backward.

On the Peacock's screen, the blazing suns again unleashed golden arrows, firing towards the direction of Zhao Xiang'er's fall.

When the Peacock King was alive, it excelled at Dharma Seals and Mantras. Though it could not revert to human form now, these seals and mantras were profoundly etched into its consciousness. It didn't even need to vocalize them; merely forming the thought "kill the enemy" would activate the corresponding Mantra or Dharma Seal.

As Zhao Xiang'er fell, fiery wings sprouted from her back, supporting her descending figure.

She was still contemplating a counterattack when, glancing around, she realized the grey rocks beneath her feet had risen layer upon layer, forming a grand array that ensnared her.

Under the suffocating onslaught, Zhao Xiang'er was already nearing exhaustion, and now found herself utterly besieged.

"I really want to sleep..." Zhao Xiang'er's sword hung low, her delicate neck slightly bowed. Her porcelain-white skin was bloodless, and strands of hair clung to her forehead and cheeks. Her lips, like pearl dust, faintly reflected the flames, quivering gently. Her eyes, though filled with murderous intent, remained clear, yet now contained a hint of despair and reluctance.

This was not the first time she had faced such a predicament. On the Nine Spirits Platform, she had even been fearless in the face of death.

But this was her first time in such a situation completely alone. Logically, without that burden, her swordplay should be even more unhindered, yet why did she keep glancing to her side? She considered herself unlike Lu Jiajia, not someone overly dependent on romantic affections.

"Hmm... It's all because of that absurd dream."

Within her, divinity had originally taken precedence, gradually supplanting the human aspects of her past. Yet, this alluring dream had slowly drawn her back, transforming her once more into the girl who gazed at the sunset from the Imperial City.

Humans are always fragile, and she was no exception.

With a formidable enemy before her, Zhao Xiang'er's moment of distraction was fleeting. She immediately pulled herself together, opened her umbrella, and gripped her sword.

"I have the Vermilion Bird's bloodline, how can I lose to this beast?"

"I still have so many scores to settle with Ning Changjiu – all that talk about 'blue-faced fangs,' 'eternal unity,' and 'you are my sword'... such utter nonsense! And Siming, that foolish sister, daring to provoke me repeatedly, I must teach her a severe lesson. Hmm... and Lu Jiajia, I told her to keep a close eye on Ning Changjiu, and this is how she does it? Hmph, they all deserve a good beating!"

"In any case... I must kill it."

The Peacock King attacked again, and with the grey rock array already deployed, Zhao Xiang'er opened her Lunar Eyes, which surged with divine fire. She bit her red lip and uttered in a low voice, "World."

At the Ancient Spirit Sect, the sky was clear for miles, and the lake breeze was serene.

The second sword competition had also begun.

Ning Xiaoling sat by the lake, eating roasted fish skewers and intently watching the water. The Fish King, having learned its lesson from the previous encounter, had retreated into a cave to eat fish and observe the spectacle.

Lu Jiajia's snowy silhouette swayed on the lake, like a snow lotus. Her long black hair drifted lightly like a veil, captivating Ning Xiaoling.

On the opposite bank, Liu Junzhuo remained in her practical sword attire. Her features were as striking as a sword, exuding a heroic aura. Although her physique wasn't as strikingly beautiful as Lu Jiajia's, it was well-proportioned and pleasing to the eye.

The leaves of the willow branch in her hand had been stripped during the previous battle, leaving it resembling a whip.

This, however, made Liu Junzhuo even more skilled.

Liu Junzhuo swung the whip-like willow branch, then chuckled, "In the Sword Pavilion, whenever I disciplined my Fourteenth Junior Sister, I'd break a willow branch just like this, and she wouldn't dare make a sound. I never imagined this little girl would be so audacious, even daring to vie with Miss Lu for her ideal gentleman. When I return, I'll teach her a proper lesson on your behalf."

Lu Jiajia had been annoyed by her heart-stinging words yesterday, but today she was mentally prepared and quite calm.

"No need for a lesson," Lu Jiajia said calmly. "As the saying goes, 'a crooked upper beam makes a crooked lower beam.' If you wish to discipline her, perhaps you should give yourself thirty lashes first."

Liu Junzhuo narrowed her eyes. "Appearances can truly be deceiving," she remarked. "When I first met Miss Lu, I took her for a dignified and graceful fairy. I never imagined such a sharp tongue."

Lu Jiajia chuckled softly, unperturbed. Holding her sword in one hand and placing the other behind her back, she said, "Compared to Second Master, I personally believe I can certainly be considered dignified and graceful."

Liu Junzhuo tightened her grip on her sword. Observing Lu Jiajia's demeanor, she consistently felt an illusion that she was looking at her own Eldest Senior Sister, which created an inexplicable psychological pressure.

"Hmph, a mere Purple Court Realm cultivator, what right does she have to possess Senior Sister's demeanor? This woman must be too deceitful, skilled at disguise."

She resolved not to hold back today. With this willow whip, she would lash Lu Jiajia until she was rolling on the ground.

Liu Junzhuo declared, "I hope Miss Lu's sword is as sharp as your tongue."

No sooner had she spoken, without waiting for Lu Jiajia's retort, Liu Junzhuo drew her sword.

Above the lake, between the two, a hurricane, like a pair of scissors, cut the water's surface as if it were fabric, revealing the dark depths beneath. Liu Junzhuo stood still, cradling the willow branch, her feet on the water, her gaze fixed on the sun. Her form gradually blurred, appearing as if she stood upon the lake, or perhaps was merely a lingering shadow.

Lu Jiajia lowered her head, observing the water curtain that receded vertically like a waterfall. She could scarcely believe such a feat was possible for someone in the Purple Court Realm.

But her heart was not flustered.

She opened her sword-eyes, fixated on Liu Junzhuo's position. She knew that the myriad illusions conjured by the sword were all false; in a true duel, only one sword strike was real. She merely needed to discern that single strike and intercept it.

Liu Junzhuo remained quietly standing, watching the sun in the sky, unmoving.

Lu Jiajia suddenly sensed something amiss.

Her gaze dared not leave Liu Junzhuo's sword-holding hand, but as her spiritual perception extended, she realized that she had unknowingly been confined within a domain. All around her were impenetrable bronze walls and iron barriers, through which her spiritual perception could not pass.

More terrifying still, when Lu Jiajia directed her spiritual perception upward, she found the sky was completely dark, save for a single bright sun. It was as if she were trapped within a bottle, and that sun was the light streaming in from its mouth.

"A universe in a pot?"

The most renowned spatial Taoist techniques in the world were "Universe in a Sleeve" and "Sun and Moon in a Pot." Liu Junzhuo was not only proficient in these but had reached a masterful level where she could wield heaven and earth for her own purpose.

By the time Lu Jiajia realized, it was too late. Diverting her attention to break the formation was no longer an option. She could only stand firm like a reef, calmly awaiting Liu Junzhuo's sword, meeting all changes with unwavering resolve.

Liu Junzhuo's sword came.

In Lu Jiajia's eyes, Liu Junzhuo began to draw her sword.

Her sword-drawing speed was agonizingly slow, the light on the blade shifting from dark to bright and back again. Lu Jiajia watched, as if observing the sun rise and moon set, yet the sword seemed infinitely long, never fully drawn. Liu Junzhuo, unhurried and graceful, her head slightly bowed, relied on this ceaseless sword-drawing technique to slowly erode Lu Jiajia's resolve.

She was drawing her own sword, and also Lu Jiajia's soul.

Lu Jiajia wanted to close her eyes but dared not look away. Yet, by staring, she inevitably fell into the illusion of the unending sword draw. She was trapped in a dilemma.

If this continued, she would lose without a fight.

Lu Jiajia's sword-eyes narrowed, and ripples suddenly appeared beneath her feet.

She took a step forward, choosing to attack proactively.

Liu Junzhuo's expression subtly shifted, but she then smiled freely, her voice like the hum of a sword. "A hundred flaws revealed... you truly can't stand the suspense, can you?"

However, Lu Jiajia's strike was merely a feint, intended to disrupt Liu Junzhuo's overwhelming initiative.

Liu Junzhuo wasn't fooled, but she also had no desire to slowly wear her down. The Sword Pavilion's techniques emphasized swiftness and decisiveness.

As Lu Jiajia moved, Liu Junzhuo's sword also arrived.

Lu Jiajia sensed it. Her Sword Spirit Unity was pushed to its maximum, and she met the attack purely by instinct.

But she struck empty air.

When Lu Jiajia reopened her eyes, within Liu Junzhuo's pot-world, a continuous torrent of layered swords pressed down on her. They were like endless waves, composed of countless blades, each cresting higher than the last.

This was one sword formed from thousands of swords.

As Lu Jiajia blocked with her sword, she attempted to cleave through this sea of swords. But while one might cleave a single wave, how could one cleave an entire ocean?

The ceaseless sword intent was like a long, ancient melody, circling the beams three thousand times, continuous and unbroken.

Lu Jiajia frowned deeply, watching the flickering lights in the darkness before her. She couldn't pinpoint Liu Junzhuo's location, sensing that her opponent could strike from the front, the side, or even from behind. Trapped by this relentless sword intent, she had no room to retaliate.

The web between her thumb and forefinger was numb, and her protective sword energy had fractured. Her strength pushed to its limit, her qi and blood surged within her chest, and the combination of external pressure and internal pain made her face ashen.

Was this the disparity between her and a Five Paths Sword Cultivator? She even harbored the self-defeating thought of wishing Liu Junzhuo would attack swiftly and end the battle, allowing her to lose directly.

In the darkness, Liu Junzhuo smiled, holding her sword. She deliberately manipulated her opponent's mental state, eroding her fighting spirit – a pure suppression at the Dao Realm level.

When the time was ripe, Liu Junzhuo thrust a simple sword strike toward her back.

Lu Jiajia remained trapped within the ceaseless waves of sword intent, like a solitary island facing a thunderstorm, with no time to turn and defend herself.

This was an unmissable strike.

At this very moment, a sudden anomaly occurred.

In the lake water, a flash of red suddenly emerged. It leaped from the surface, resembling a koi but with notably longer fins.

A fish leaping from the water was a common sight, yet precisely this created a momentary fissure in Liu Junzhuo's relentless sword intent. Lu Jiajia's eyes lit up, and without hesitation, she boldly drew her sword, like a blade cleaving water. Following that discordant fissure, she severed the persistent sword intent right in the middle.

Liu Junzhuo frowned, unable to comprehend how a fish could possibly enter her "Pot Heaven" domain.

But her sword had already been unleashed, and she couldn't alter its course, continuing its original trajectory toward Lu Jiajia.

The sword hummed, its light illuminating both their faces in the darkness.

Lu Jiajia had already turned. Cold as ice, she stared at Liu Junzhuo and intercepted her willow branch. The branch, being mere wood, was astonishingly severed into two by her sword.

The "Pot Heaven" shattered.

The darkness vanished, and sunlight fell.

Above Misty Moon Lake, though Lu Jiajia's white robes were soaked, they refracted countless rays of sunlight, making her appear even more like a divine being.

Liu Junzhuo held the broken willow branch, her head bowed in silence. Her sword robes remained dry, yet she appeared utterly disheveled.

"You...

...What kind of fish do you keep?" Liu Junzhuo asked, utterly baffled.

Lu Jiajia had no idea, but she couldn't be bothered to explain. The previous exchange had been too stifling; now, she only wished to demoralize her opponent. Lu Jiajia spoke her mind directly: "This place is blessed with extraordinary spirits. You can break a willow branch to form a sword, so why can't I use a lake fish to break your formation? With both timing and terrain on my side, what can you do? The Sword Pavilion... is merely mediocre!"

With that, Lu Jiajia turned and left.

Ning Xiaoling held her small paws to her face, gazing adoringly at her master's retreating figure, thinking that, indeed, not all wicked women could bully her master.

Liu Junzhuo stood rooted to the spot, clutching her chest. Her sword heart, long since perfected, hummed incessantly, and her body involuntarily trembled. This was an emotion she hadn't experienced in countless years.

"Lu Jiajia!" Liu Junzhuo called out sharply.

"Hmm?" Lu Jiajia paused and turned slightly.

Liu Junzhuo's eyes blazed with fervor. She declared, "Tomorrow at this time, for the final sword, I will unleash my full power without mercy. I hope Miss Lu's Dao heart proves resilient. Don't be surprised."

Lu Jiajia nodded, feeling she couldn't lose face, and coldly retorted, "Your disciple Liu Xiwang already lost to Ning Changjiu. After tomorrow, both you and your disciple will be among my defeated."

The City of Ten Thousand Demons.

The torrential rain showed no sign of stopping.

Siming leaned against the rock wall, her eyes slightly open, looking towards the cave.

Lightning flashed intermittently, casting everything before them into stark, dark silhouettes.

The Golden-winged Great Peng stood outside the cave, its golden wing feathers dulled and matted with viscous blood that even the pouring rain couldn't wash away. The grey-white feathers on its nape were disheveled, and beneath its armor, stark white bone was faintly visible through the flesh. Beneath the red raven mask, which had been severed in half, lay a middle-aged face crisscrossed with scars.

After Bai Ze's arrival, the Nine Spirit Yuansheng had no time to pay attention to them.

The severely wounded Golden-winged Great Peng, despite countless broken bones, did not stop to rest. He knew the silver-haired woman's injuries were several times more severe than his. He had to find them and seize the Golden Crow immediately; only then could he hope to turn the tide.

Though it took over an hour, he was fortunate to have finally found them...

The Golden-winged Great Peng looked at the tattered white-robed youth and declared, "Hand over the Golden Crow, and I will spare your lives. I have no desire to kill you; the Nine Spirit Yuansheng is our common enemy."

Ning Changjiu didn't speak. He glanced at the woman behind him.

Siming lay weakly, a flicker of murderous intent in her eyes quickly subdued by exhaustion. Her gaze held no trace of coldness, only a rare clarity and brightness. Her slender, graceful body no longer resembled a sword but an ancient, black-and-white masterpiece, inspiring only a desire to cherish it.

"Rest well, don't move around," Ning Changjiu's voice was a little hoarse.

Siming hummed softly in response.

The Golden-winged Great Peng asked, "Are you and she master and servant?"

Ning Changjiu didn't speak. Instead, he directly summoned the Golden Crow.

The Golden-winged Great Peng was surprised by his straightforwardness and cackled sharply, "I thought you would selfishly cling to your treasure, unwilling to save this woman who's on the verge of becoming crippled. It seems I underestimated you."

But Ning Changjiu reached into the Golden Crow and drew out a sword.

It was the Yulei Sword.

On that day, Yulei was reforged within the Golden Crow Divine Realm, once again taking on a form closer to a true sword.

He drew his sword, rose to his feet within the narrow cave, and with murderous, sword-like eyes fixed on the Golden-winged Great Peng, he declared grimly, "We share life and death. It's not for a demon like you to lecture us."

The Golden-winged Great Peng stared at him coldly, its demonic eyes radiating a terrifying red glow.

Instantly, all surrounding temperatures plummeted, and the driving rain turned into icy, snowy shards.

Ning Changjiu, however, voluntarily took off his outer robe.

He draped his outer robe over Siming, whose hands and feet were cold, and softly said, "Xue'er, wait for me to come back."

He had always wanted to call her that, but lacked the courage on ordinary days. With life and death now uncertain, he had no more reservations.

"Xue'er..." Ordinarily, Siming's fist would have already connected, but Ning Changjiu's words were now so serious and earnest, devoid of any flirtatious undertone, as if sealing a pact with her.

"Well... I'll settle accounts later."

Siming responded, saying, "Live."

As her voice faded, the Golden-winged Great Peng launched a furious attack, its tattered golden feathers re-igniting. Although its injuries were far more severe than Ning Changjiu's, it had once been a peak Five Paths Great Demon. Even with broken ribs and a depleted energy core, it remained an absolutely formidable adversary.

Ning Changjiu showed no fear.

"Get out." He tilted his head back, his voice low.

His golden pupils reflected the Golden-winged Great Peng's silhouette.

The moment the Golden-winged Great Peng struck, he fearlessly rose, wielding his barrier, charging through the rock cave. Enduring the beast's sword with his Asura body, he slammed into its chest.

He slammed into the Golden-winged Great Peng's scarred chest, truly dragging it and sending it flying backward.

It spread its wings, forcefully dragging its body back, and with a flick of its hand, grasped a golden feather, stabbing it toward Ning Changjiu's back.

Ning Changjiu didn't block.

He didn't intend to drag the fight on; instead, he chose a direct exchange of injuries.

He knew that despite the Golden-winged Great Peng's high cultivation, it was only a hair's breadth from complete collapse. Even if he took a thousand sword strikes, he would push the Golden-winged Great Peng past that line symbolizing death.

With a hiss, blood splattered in the rain.

Both simultaneously pierced the other's body.

The Golden-winged Great Peng lashed out with a sharp claw, aiming for his throat. Ning Changjiu caught Mirror Water Moon to evade the strike, then summoned the Golden Crow and thrust it directly toward the beast's eye.

The Golden-winged Great Peng was greatly alarmed, exploding with spiritual energy and flapping its wings to retreat.

Ning Changjiu's figure was sent flying by the airwave. Their bodies separated, and the weapons were pulled from each other's flesh.

Ning Changjiu held the blood-stained Yulei.

The torrential rain washed the blood from the sword, leaving its blade like a dimly gleaming mirror.

The Golden-winged Great Peng stared at him, then suddenly extended a falcon-like claw and snapped its fingers.

There was no response.

The Golden-winged Great Peng frowned, its face beneath the red raven mask filled with confusion.

Ning Changjiu healed his wounds using his temporal authority while simultaneously retrieving a golden rope from his bosom: the Golden Blinding Rope.

"Are you looking for this?" Ning Changjiu said, then let go of it, casually tossing it off the cliff.

He had long realized that the Golden Blinding Rope was the Golden-winged Great Peng's treasure, and keeping it could easily become a weapon used against him. Therefore, he had previously cast it into the Golden Crow, erasing the Great Peng's mark.

The Golden-winged Great Peng watched the magic artifact fall like a dead snake, paused in stunned silence for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter.

"Good... very good, Golden Crow... The sacred artifact the Saint left me happens to be a bow... So that's it, you are the opponent I've been waiting for all these hundreds of years!"

Three thousand years ago, the nine Golden Crows in the sky were shot down by deities with arrows.

Was today also his day to draw his bow and shoot the sun?

Lightning and thunder continued to flash and rumble across the sky.

In the vast sky, the two confronted each other. All schemes and stratagems vanished, and the future course of destiny rested upon the cold blades in their hands.